Quidditch and Katie
by metro.max
Summary: Quidditch isn't the only thing Oliver Wood is going to miss about Hogwarts. [oneshot]


**Disclaimer:** All credit for Oliver, Katie, Quidditch, Puddlemere United, etc. belongs to J.K. Rowling, whom I am not.

**Author's Notes: **I took a new approach on writing Katie. She reminds me of a mix of Luna and caffinated cheerleader here, but no worries, it's almost sweet. Be a dear and **review **then, if you would, dear person.

_Alisa_

**_Quidditch_ and _Katie_**

If there was one thing Oliver Wood was going to miss about Hogwarts, it would be Quidditch.

The roar of hundreds of students cheering… the feeling of absolute freedom as he kicked off from the ground… the touch of the Quaffle in his hand… the smooth grains of his broomstick beneath him… the outlandish joy of saving a goal… seeing his team mates work together just as he'd taught them… that was Quidditch. And sitting there, in the stands, looking out at the pitch, Oliver couldn't help but miss it already.

He was, after all, never again going to play a game of Quidditch on the Hogwarts Quidditch pitch. Gryffindor's last game (against the Slytherins for the Quidditch Cup) was only last week, yet Oliver already felt the familiar feeling of anticipation for another. Another that wouldn't come.

Oliver, though he himself had not seen it, had heard that someone from Puddlemere United had come to watch the game, and had been very impressed. Oliver—and everyone else, for that matter—knew who that someone had come to see play: Oliver himself.

Oliver was happy, yes—professional Quidditch!—but that was nothing compared to what he had at Hogwarts.

He had a brilliant team he had chosen himself, that he had trained and worked and loved and lived for—how could he have that kind of intimacy with six other people he had never met before?

He knew everything about his team—how Harry had gotten an E on a Defense Against the Dark Arts assignment, how Angelina read _Quidditch Through the Ages_ habitually once a month, how Fred and George always managed to get butterbeer after a victory, how Katie liked her tea, how Alicia's favorite Weird Sister was Kirley—he knew their every statistic from experience. How was he supposed to get that knowledge from a roster?

Oliver knew he could never help a Puddlemere player with their Charms homework like he did with Alicia or have a cup of tea after curfew like he did with Katie or argue about the Hufflepuff's offense like he did with Angelina. He would never have the intimacy with the Puddlemere players like he had with his team. Puddlemere United reserve team didn't grow up together or learn together or live together like the Gryffindor team did.

And Oliver knew Quidditch would never be the same to him… or maybe it was that he would ever be the same to Quidditch.

"Oliver!"

His head turned to the left and he found a girl huffing up the stands toward him.

"Hello, Katie."

The girl called Katie plopped down next to him with an exuberant sigh. Then she said, "I've been looking for you."

"Hmm?" He turned to stare out at the pitch.

"I was wondering where you'd gone off to," she continued, following his gaze. "And I was thinking—you only have a few weeks of school left, did you realize? So I was thinking that we should do something ridiculous."

He turned to her, bemused. "Something ridiculous?"

Her eyes lit up. "Oh, you know! Let's do something bad, break some rules or something to celebrate your graduation—and none of this wishy-washy after curfew nonsense—everyone does that. Let's do something adventurous."

His first reaction was to chuckle. Then he thought about what Katie had offered.

"Anything I'd like, you say?" he asked cautiously.

She clapped her hands in obvious delight. "Anything you'd like at all!" she declared.

"How about some one-on-one?" he offered tentatively.

"Quidditch?" she said, bewildered. "You're sure you'd like to play Quidditch?"

He paused for a moment; he didn't really think it over, though. It wasn't really something he needed to think about.

"Yes, I'm sure."

"Well, if you're—ooh…" She shrugged her shoulders, then smiled brightly. "If you want Quidditch, Quidditch you shall get! Shall I gather the others?"

"No!" he answered quickly. "No, no, that's quite all right. I think a bit of one-on-one will do me some good."

"Excellent!" she exclaimed, then leaned in conspiratorially. "Now that you mention it, I've been itching to play myself. The girls don't want to, of course, O.W.L.s and all, and I was afraid you'd be too busy with N.E.W.T.s to play, but here we are!"

"Why didn't you just ask the Weasleys?"

Katie gave a burst of laughter. "I have never seen such talented players less capable with a Quaffle! I wouldn't _want_ to play with them!" And she dissolved into laughter again; she didn't even seem to mind that he wasn't laughing with her.

"I'll just be off to fetch the brooms then, shall I?" she said, still wiping tears from her eyes, and she ambled off, whistling a Weird Sisters' song and chuckling as she went.

As Oliver watched Katie walk away, nearly skipping as she went, he felt guilt blossoming in his chest. He had been very cold to her, he realized. He had hardly spoken a word except to demand more Quidditch of her—as if she hadn't gotten enough during the season! Even if he thought Katie was childish and far too chipper to be normal, though, he was still her friend. At least, she was a friend to him; he might only be a Quidditch Captain to her.

Of course not, Oliver reprimanded himself. He was her friend too.

Katie Bell was a person who had always interested Oliver. She was childish and excited and sweet, and really very delightful, though she could be stubborn as a mule and kick just as hard. Oliver liked her, of course, but he wasn't very sure of what he thought of her. She just seemed so _bright_ compared to him. There was only one thing in which his enthusiasm matched hers: Quidditch.

When it came to the sport, she was serious, stony-faced, and nearly as fanatical as he was. She had, at one point in the year, even taken to carrying a Quaffle with her wherever she went, throwing it at unsuspecting Gryffindor players and demanding extra practice when they missed. And more often than not, it was Katie's plays they were working on, not Oliver's.

Oliver was glad they had at least that in common.

And before Oliver knew it, Katie was standing before him, his broom over her shoulder and a Quaffle under her arm.

"Ready?"

"As always," he said, and grinned, promising himself he would be more cheerful. He took his broom and they began walking to the pitch.

They were nearly halfway down the stands when Katie asked, "Are you excited?"

"About what?" he asked, glancing at her.

"Playing for Puddlemere."

He stared at her outright. "Who said anything about playing for Puddlemere?"

She rolled her eyes. "Oliver, we all know you're going to be asked to play."

"You don't _know_ that," Oliver argued.

"Of course you are," Katie shot back. "There's no doubt."

"Well then… I suppose I'm excited."

"I'm going to come watch you play, you know," she said, swinging her leg over her broom; they had stopped in the middle of the pitch.

"You don't even know if I'm going to play," he said, though he couldn't keep the grin from his face.

"Don't be daft, Oliver," she said, and shop up straight into the air.

Oliver followed Katie, and a sudden, saddening though hit him.

Quidditch wasn't the only thing he would miss about Hogwarts.

**FIN.**


End file.
